I Don't Sing
by fgfgmyfgtr
Summary: A night at a local karaoke club ends in embarrassment for Lara, and an angry confrontation afterwards for Sam. (A collection of one-shots! Open and taking requests!)


**Hi! fg here with my first fic in a long time! This is the start of (hopefully) a large compilation of one-shots. I'm going to focus on Lara and Sam, but I don't mind trying other characters as well! So please send some requests! With that, please enjoy the fic!**

 _ **Chapter 1: I Don't Sing (Lara's POV) 1,664 words**_

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Neon lights in cursive lettering, mute televisions, lots of people and smoke. God, the place smelled awful and I couldn't really think about anything else than a hot shower to get rid of that smell and maybe a late night wash to help out my poor clothes as well. It was quiet, considering that Sam and I were in a karaoke bar, we kinda had to be. There was someone on stage, a girl with a voice that made my ears bleed. I wondered how the bar wasn't empty yet. She had to choose Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You." Why did people with bad singing voices choose such songs? I couldn't judge though, because I couldn't do much better. I stared at the ground, toeing the crack in the old brown tiling, just so I wouldn't have to look at the current performer.

"Lara, you should go sing." Sam whispered to me, leaning closer. The look I gave her was between pure shock and unbelieving horror. Hell no. I should not sing at all. Not now, not ever.

"Uh…" I croaked. Not my best answer ever, but it was difficult to convince Sam anyway. She was the perfect party girl, she was full of life and fun and had a very vivid social life. I wasn't like that, I was very far from that. Sam knew that, but she always tried to push me past my boundaries. I knew my friend did this because I had literally no-one and she wanted the best for me, but I wasn't really sure this was actually the best for me.

"Lara, please?" The look on Sam's face was very convincing. Those big brown puppy eyes, how someone could say no to it?

I started to sweat, my heart started to race.

"Sam, I really don't want to."

"Please?"

"No."

"Lara please?" She drew the last word out. She was like a little kid, so kind and loving that it was hard to say no.

"No." I said it with a tone of finality. Sam wouldn't give up until she had her way.

"Please Lara?" She grabbed my hands, in an attempt to sway me. My resolve was cracking. "If you sing me one song, I will do the dishes for a week."

That was a hefty deal, coming from her. She hated doing the dishes.

"Two weeks." I told her. Maybe I could get her to agree to more. "Two weeks or no song."

"If you sing me a song, I will do the dishes for two weeks." She crossed her heart with an index finger, then winced as the singer on stage sang a particularly awful ending note. The song was finally over.

"O-okay."

Sam pulled me up, pushing me toward the stage. I resisted, slightly. I still didn't want to do this, dishes and all. People were judging me, they were trying to gauge if I'd be any good. I wasn't going to be.

I tried to convince Sam that it wasn't a good idea, but Sam was having none of it.

"Sam, I'm not great at singing." My voice was shaking.

"That's what everyone says, you'll do great."

I was pushed onto the stage. I stared out at the audience. It was like the entire bar was staring at me, though that wasn't true. I fixed my jacket, and wiped some sweat from my face.

I looked at the little screen to the side of the stage, which had every song I could ever dream of; from rap, to hip hop, and even an opera? Wow. I tapped at the screen, choosing a song I knew the words to. Imagine, by John Lennon, classic. I could sing that, I hoped.

My fingers hovered over the play button. I took a deep breath, looking to Sam, who gave her two thumbs up. I pressed the button, and the song began to play. The piano intro started to play, and my breath hitched. I grasped the microphone, it smelled like beer.

Three… Two… One… Start!

"Imagine there's no heaven."

I started singing, surprising even myself that I had started at the right time. My heart was racing faster than horses on a track, and I wanted to pass out.

"It's easy if you try." That verse was laced with sour notes. My voice cracked.

I looked at Sam once more, the girl gave her a supportive thumbs up, but her smiled looked forced. I was awful. I knew it.

"No hell below us." Not a single note I sang was right.

I swallowed, trying desperately to wet my dry mouth. My heart was palpitating, my palms were sweaty. If the microphone hadn't been on the stand, I probably would have dropped it. My stomach flipped.

My audience wasn't as kind as Sam was. People were visibly wincing. Some looked disappointed. Why couldn't the hot girl sing? They seemed to be thinking.

"Above us, only…" My voice cut off as my throat seemed to swell up. "I can't do this." I mumbled. That was great. The determined Lara Croft who never gave up anything, running off the stage like a little girl.

I practically ran off the stage, headed toward the bathroom. I heard Sam call after me, but I needed to be alone. I barged into the bathroom, which was empty. I placed my hands on the sink, breathing hard. Tears flowed down my face and into the sink. The bathroom was cold, I could hear the rain patter against the window.

Why had I done that?

I had done that because Sam had begged me too, then when I had agreed, Sam had pushed me on stage without a second thought. If it wasn't for Sam, I wouldn't be embarrassed at the moment. Hell, I wouldn't have even been in the bar! I could have been at the apartment, all snuggled up, reading some anecdotes from The Divine Comedy.

I stared into the sink, it was filthy, something I probably wouldn't touch under normal circumstances. The wall was a weird green tile, and the ground was the same brown tile. This place was a dump. I looked at myself in the mirror. I had puffy eyes, my nose was running. I didn't even care, I was too busy trying to regain my breath and composure.

This wasn't the first time I'd done something like this. I'd embarrassed myself before at bars, at parties. It was usually Sam's fault. She enjoyed pushing me towards boys, then watching me flounder as I refused their advances.

"Lara?" Sam knocked on the door. "Are you okay?"

"No."

God, I was angry, infuriated. Sam was gonna walk in here like nothing ever happened. No, like she hadn't been involved with my screeching that was a sorry excuse for singing. She always did that!

"You didn't sound as bad as you think."

"You know full well that isn't bloody true." I snapped.

"Lara, I-"

"Would you just listen?" My voice was white-hot. "When will you realize that I don't like socializing? That I don't like loud music, clubs, and stupid drunk people?"

"Lara-"

"Shut up Sam!" She shut her mouth. "When will you realize that I'm not a doll for you dress up and tote along like a… Like a fucking purse dog?!" Tears poured out of my eyes, angry tears. "I don't like dressing up Sam. I don't like it when you push me to talk to guys. I don't like it when I make a fool of myself because you think it's funny!"

I glared at Sam, trying to formulate what to say next. I took a deep breath, and when I spoke again, my voice was level, though trembling.

"And it hurts me deeply, that you don't pay attention to you when I'm telling you that I don't want to do something." I let out a noise that was something like half of a sob. "I didn't want to sing, you pestered me anyway. I didn't even want to be in this bloody club, but you bothered me until I gave in."

Sam looked hurt, it made a small part of me feel good, but mostly, I felt guilty and angry. I shouldn't have yelled at her. I lost my temper. But she deserved to be yelled at, right?

"I'm sorry Lara." It took effort not to yell at her again, but I managed to bite my tongue. "I'm sorry that I didn't… That I didn't listen to you when you didn't want to come. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you when you didn't want to sing."

I used a paper towel to wipe my nose.

"I guess I've been so focused on getting you a social life, that I wasn't paying attention to see if you were having fun or not. I was too focused on me having fun, with you being there." She was tearing up a little, I could see it. "I-I'm sorry."

I looked her over. This would get better faster if we made up now. "I understand Sam." I held out my arms for a hug, which she graciously took. "Just next time, please don't make me do something I don't want to do. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Now, can we go home? I don't want to be here anymore."

"Yeah, we can."

Thank God.

Sam pulled away from me, looking me in the eye, then wiped some of my tears with her thumbs. "You look awful."

"God, I wonder why?" I said sarcastically. I meant it as a joke, but it still came out a tad hostile.

Sam smiled softly, wiping my eyes with a paper towel. Once done, she balled it up and threw it in the garbage. "Come one, lets go."

As we left, I shrank behind Sam. Though we had made up, I was still embarrassed. As we stepped into the light rain, I was more than relieved to be out of there.

"I'm never going there again."

"Fair enough."


End file.
